You Ruined His, Too
by thesoundingsea
Summary: Tavern scene from Quite A Common Fairy, and a little bit beyond. Robin's POV. Oneshot. (Outlaw Queen, but not directly...you'll see what I mean.)


**I wrote this a while back and posted it on tumblr, thought I'd put it up here as well. This scene seriously BROKE my heart for Regina. Tavern scene from Robin's POV. Hope you like it!**

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Robin Hood went by many names, most of which were not his own. He'd been so many places and lived so many lives that it barely mattered anymore. They all blurred together to make him a character, not a man. Except on nights like this, in the company of people who truly knew him. People from whom his identity was no secret. It was a pleasant change from the day-to-day.

Like always, they were asking him to recount one of his many adventures, and finally they settled on the story of the night he met Little John. A delightful story, though one that Robin never told with as much as an ounce of truth. The lies were much more entertaining, so he twisted the tale to fit his mood. On this evening, in this tavern, it involved a magical lake. The lake was home to a siren, a woman of unparalleled beauty with long, golden hair, who was rumored to grant men a single wish before luring them into the waters and dragging them to their deaths. The way his audience laughed said that Robin had chosen his story well.

The barman brought over a pitcher to refill his tankard, and as soon as he left Robin felt a slight tingle at the back of his neck. The rush of a whisper across his skin, softer than a butterfly's wings. Not a man easily unsettled, Robin sat quite still for a moment and drank slowly, listening carefully to the conversations around him. He watched the faces of his companions, searched the roomful of strangers, trying to find the one thing that was out of place. He set down his mug and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He wanted to turn around, but something was holding him fast, rooting him to the spot—not fear, he told himself. Caution. He sat and considered the way his chest tightened, his breath caught, the way every nerve in his body seemed to spring to life, every sense miraculously heightened.

One of his companions was talking to him, turning his name into a question, but Robin ignored him.

The door swung open, and he could feel the night air cooling the sweat on the back of his neck, the breeze carrying with it the scent of something comforting and familiar, but at the same time terrifying and new, a sensation that made him shiver and close his eyes against it while breathing it deep, filling his lungs. It reminded him of home; of a misty morning in the forest, when the sun was still hiding and the moon was just going to sleep, when the whole of the earth was stirring, just waking up; of watching the sun set over the sea, the way the light would bounce off the waves, shimmering like the scales of a silverfish; of a warm fire and a warm bed, and a soft voice whispering his name against his ear…

The tavern door was closing just as Robin turned his head. It was like seeing a ghost, a fleeting glimpse of a flowing white dress, a woman with raven hair. A night wraith, a vision, nothing more.

At least, that's what he told himself.

That night, Robin dreamed of the lake, and the siren. Robin approached the water, and when the siren appeared she took the form of a woman with long raven hair and a flowing white dress, smooth, fair skin, dark eyes that pierced and tempted, and soft red lips that spoke his name in a soothing, gentle voice, caressing it like a prayer. But every time he got close to her, the woman retreated deeper into the lake, just out of reach. It wasn't until he woke that he realized she was drowning him.

He would remember the dream, in coming years. Even after he met Marian, he would think back on it, wondering what it meant. Wondering if that moment in the tavern had been real, or merely a trick of the mind.

After Marian's death he would curse that night, slash the memory to pieces in his head and wonder why the universe would have promised him the hope of something so beautiful, only to snatch it away.

Robin learned then that love was not for keeping. Not for the likes of him. For men like Robin Hood, love was for having, then regretting, and then trying not to lose oneself in the splintering darkness that followed.

The dream was his curse, haunting him, lingering in the recesses of his memory like a disease. In his waking hours, Robin had the presence of his son, Roland, to keep the darkness at bay. But when his eyes closed at night, when his thoughts were guided by the lonely, broken shadow that lorded over his heart, he _craved_ it, welcoming the nameless beauty into his arms so she could break him just one more time.

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**I seriously can't wait for these two to meet on the show! Hopefully I did the scene justice. *shrugs* Review?**


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